


Ghosts and After Images

by Zen_monk



Category: Bravely Default (Video Game) & Related Fandoms
Genre: Absence, Budding Love, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Letters, Responsibility, Romantic Friendship, Sad with a Happy Ending, letter writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 12:22:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8890618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zen_monk/pseuds/Zen_monk
Summary: Letters exchanged and loneliness shared, Agnes and Edea are weighed by the consequences and feelings of the past.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gargant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gargant/gifts).



The village Norende was crawling with people. Not like how Caldisla overwhelmed Agnes with buildings and roads built into the mountain as though the hilltop grew the castle and the people there, but the human activity in Norende was nevertheless so full of energy that she didn’t know where to turn to. Where once it was a town that crept along the edge of the chasm, now it was stretched out over the newly reformed land.

  
Wherever she turned, there was no shortage of people working or resting from work. Each roadway and alley have somebody laying down flat stones over smoothed dirt, or removing wreckage around the land. Foundations were laid, and frames were erected upon them revealing the bare bones of buildings and families who will live within. Ditches were being built for drainage; some engineer from Florem came by, and she thought it a perfect opportunity to try out her innovations for indoor plumbing. Beyond the town limits, small flocks of sheep and cattle tentatively explore the land, picking at newly grown grass over the uneven terrain, as though they knew that the land around was not there before.

  
Other than Caldislans who volunteered to help rebuild the village at Tiz’s behest, other people from far-flung lands came by. First from Ancheim, for those tired of the desert and tired of the politics which injured them, but also who were hard followers of Chrystalism and of Agnes. When Agnes met them, they gushed fervently for her deeds and nearly would have given her offerings had she not hastily thanked them and told them to instead think for others who need it more, her words flustered and clumsy. But others came from Florem, who felt entrapped in the social pressures of beauty and reciprocation; they themselves brought their colorful silks and hairpins, but also their drafting tools and work aprons, finding neither to be of conflict with one another. Doctors came from the Duchy; free of charge, they say, as they set up the makeshift clinics. Also independent, for they organized to go out to Eisenberg and Caldisla as well, having known their countries’ actions through Edea’s accounts.

  
Each time Tiz received news of recent settlers, or of the people whom they met in their journey pledging to help, he nearly collapsed to the ground, overwhelmed with happiness.

  
It’s all over, he had said, with awe in his voice.

  
Yes it is, she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

  
Edea and Ringabel stood with them gazing over the village, the place where the conflicted started for them all, but no doubt had been the start and the end of other worlds just like theirs.

  
When he said it, she thought that it meant the end of their journey, and fulfilling his dream of rebuilding Norende. But when she went back to the Wind Temple, with nuns from other temples and devouts from Ancheim, she wondered if that phrase meant something else. In the end, she went back to what she had left: the remains of a former life, never to see again.

  
And now, standing by the doorway of the village head, whose building began as a tent where the rebuilding teams were headquartered and bit by bit had stone walls and a roof and finally a sign over the or, Agnes people-watched and thought of the prayers she had said over the chasm.

  
“It’s all over,” she said sadly, and looked at Edea who stood in the city square.

  
Edea, a year older and decades wiser, had her back turned to Agnes as she surveyed the statue of Tiz being lifted up by ropes. A plaque appeared at the base of it, read:

  
Tiz Arrior, Last and First of Norende

  
*  
It was quiet on the Eschalot, even though Edea had a small team to command it and many days spent visiting port after port. She couldn’t quite put her finger as to what made it so lacking, until she started to sit at a writing desk more rather than near the helm.

  
She thumbed through D’s journal, feeling the vellum paper and the worn black leather underneath her fingertips, and wondered more than once whether all Alternis Dims in all worlds have written this diary in the exact same way and with the exact same feelings.

  
Pulling out the D’s journal which fell from her Alternis Dim’s person as he fell into the light, she compared the two and wondered if the small differences between them are enough to indicate the two as entirely different people, or if it just didn’t matter compared to the wealth of feelings bound within.

  
No matter what, she would sit sadly in her wooden chair, listening to the hum of the sky crystal, and thought whether she really knew him at all when it felt so easy to know Ringabel and his thoughts.

  
But looking at the blank white paper and various black ink spots that blossomed on it when she paused to think, it probably shouldn’t have mattered whether she knew the people in her life as clearly as though it was black or white. She thought she knew her father, after all, and it was only after going through many fathers and many Eternias and many Kamiizumi’s that she knew him. Even more when she talked to him at last, while he rested in his bed and he couldn’t do anything else except lie on his pillow looking like a man who finished his duty and knew its weight.

  
It’s all about talking about it first, isn’t it? She reminded herself when she put quill to paper. The pen’s scratching filled the room, and words poured out of her like melting ice rivers in the springtime.

  
She finished it with a daring flourish of her signature, and sealed the letter in a thick envelope, nearly bulging with the pages within.

  
She stepped outside her room to head to the deck, feeling the wind in her hair, cool and moist as they reached towards Florem.

  
Her hair was unbound and it flew freely about her face. Agnes hair was so thick and heavy, that it never billowed into her face but instead about her like a hero’s cape, and Edea wondered how long it would have taken her if she chose to grew to that length.

  
Let’s talk again, Agnes. Real talk, like in a cafe with the best sweets and the sweetest milks. It feels like it’s been so long since we saw one another face to face, and sometimes I miss it when it was just the four of us figuring things out and trying new things. Even back then, when I didn’t tell you about my father, I wanted to talk to you about many things, and even afterwards I just didn’t know how to say it.

  
I know we’re busy right now, and have our own duties, but I don’t want to lose that connection we had when we were four man strong. Now we’re only two people, and I guess I just wanted to know if we’re okay. That being us two is enough.

  
With all my love,

  
Edea Lee.

  
*  
Agnes sat back in her seat and sighed. Edea’s letter was held loosely in her grip, and she closed her eyes in the candlelight. Edea’s words were a balm on her mind after going over page after page of documents detailing temple restoration and applications for new acolytes. The Mother Vestal from Florem did her best to try to help, but she left days ago to return to her city in order to meet with the Eternian representative. Now, when it was just her and the assisting acolytes and supporters from Ancheim, the work of restoration consumed all her thoughts and energy.

  
It was just as well that it did, for sometimes in the night like itself, she thought the dark shifted and stirred around her like it did when Orthros appeared from the darkened Wind Crystal. Sometimes she thought she heard Airy’s playful voice echoing in in the chamber, and she pulled the covers over her head like she was a child still.

  
She carefully placed Edea’s recent letter with the others she kept in a small chest. There was a neat bundle already, tied with string, and nearly every night she would reread them again so that she could have more of her strong voice in her mind, clear and certain as a bell. In that self-same chest were the letters she kept from Olivia, and sometimes Agnes couldn’t help but think of Edea's correspondence being like how she communicated with Olivia.

  
The same feelings of exhilaration when her letter came through from the messenger. The same feelings of happiness in hearing a friend, the same comfort in keeping a person’s voice close to her.

  
Complicated feelings also welled up, as they always did when she felt unsure, and sometimes like the darkness, she felt the wave of sadness appear at thoughts of Olivia and when she walked through the halls of the temple.

  
Agnes pulled out a fresh candle and it lit the wick with the flame of the other. The added brightness made the room cheerier. She got out her ink well and several sheaves of paper, and began to write.

  
In her mind, a phrase resonated more so than she expected, hearing it almost perfectly in Edea’s voice.

  
With all my love,  
Edea Lee

  
*  
Dear Edea,

  
I feel the same way. For me, sometimes it felt that time moved too quickly and the work insurmountable, that it seemed that it has been ages since we last saw each other. That time was itself a sad occasion, and I wish to meet again under more glad circumstances.

  
Being in the temple and overseeing the repairs was exhausting, if not fulfilling. It was heartening to see so many people coming to support the temple in spite of its history. Sometimes it is hard to believe the things we know and learned when so many others still know it in the limited history we used to know. Once when I tried to talk about it, it was as though I was speaking to a wall or a person made of cracked stone. Some people just could not believe it while others shrugged it off as though the revelation was just another miraculous occurrence as the chasm. Or that the knowledge was so far removed away from them that it was hard to care. Sometimes, I received some pushback from devout Chrstalists, so that in end we just avoided talking about it for fear of confrontation.

  
But through these letters, I don’t feel so bottled up as before. I’m trying harder to be more free-spoken, like yourself. Sometimes I missed the kind of frank talks we all had, and more so when such honesty came from Tiz and even Ringabel. So as soon as the both of us are able to, let us meet again.

  
There are some things that can only be said between us, I think.

  
With the blessings of the Crystal,

  
Agnes Oblige

  
*  
Edea received that letter when she returned to Eternia after her worldwide tour to the affected countries where Eternian soldiers nearly blighted the land. She was warmly received by the leaders and populace, although the presence of Eternian soldiers were hard-met. Sometimes Edea wished she could forget the shocked and worried faces of the city-folk and villagers who saw the crew in Eisenberg, but she swallowed her words and brightened her face as best as she can. Before each city, she heavily reminded the crew how to act and what to expect, for she remembered painfully Agnes’ despair for Olivia and her chilled attitude towards her.

  
Eisenberg’s fire crystal was no longer unstable, but that didn’t mean temperatures didn’t run hot among the populace. It was to her credit, however, she was able to keep a cooler head when she wanted to be defensive, when she wanted to remind them all that she was the good one, and remembered that things are not so black and white when it came to people other than herself.

  
Eternia was warming over as spring went into full swing. When last she left the city, it was still knee deep in snow and cold. Now, weeks later after her world tour, grass poked through the snowmelt and there was the unmistakable sound of birds and wildlife chirping in the air.

  
It was Mazer Lee who first greeted Edea at the airship port.

  
“Welcome back, darling,” she said, her arms opened wide.

  
“Mother!” Edea all but sighed. She went right into her open arms and nearly fell against her. “I missed you so much,” she said, voice muffled by layers of fur wraps and scarves.

  
“We did too,” Mazer mumbled into the top of her head. “Come inside, quickly. It’s still cold outside.”

  
“Oh, I should help with the disembarkment-”

  
Mazer waved a hand. “No need to worry, we’ve been expecting you so please come straight in.”

  
Edea stood up and gazed with eyes concerned. “Did something happened?” Immediately she thought of her father, and her heart ached.

  
Mazer shook her head. “Nothing terrible, mind. Merely the council wishing to hear from you. I think they are anxious to hear about the other nation-states.”

  
Edea grimaced. A common point of contention from all her meetings and conferences focused on reparations and how it can be accomplished. For all that she agreed with giving back and undoing damage, she couldn’t help but feel the cost of acquiescing to some nation’s demands, even in light of their positive reception of her. Particularly from Eisenberg, for which she saw herself the cost of war in this world, but also in Ancheim and Caldisla, when light of the political mechanisms that went on in the desert kingdom and the destruction of the parts of the Caldisla kingdom included their king’s kidnapping.

  
At what point is it too much? At what point is it not enough?

  
Remorsefully, she asked herself why it is that her father in this world chose such a heavy fist to lay out his designs for the good of the world, even when he was right.

  
Inside, she met her father, who was able to sit up in his bed to meet her. Since his defeat, he wasn’t quite the same state of health as he was before. Numerous times in the year, he met with doctors and was subscribed bed rest, but she wondered if it was the fact that he thought that his own daughter would undo all he had wrought in the worse way.

  
But he smiled when he saw her, and that was enough to prompt her to rush to his side.

  
“Father,” she sighed as she reached his bed. “How are you, father?”

  
“Hmph, more worried for you than myself,” he said, but he reached out to hold her around the shoulders and pull her close. “But look at you, taller than last we saw each other.”

  
Edea smiled and breathed deep. Like her mother, he smelled of wintergreen and firewood, but also the warm scent of someone who has been in bed for a long while, and the antiseptic smell of a hospital.

  
“What did the doctor say?” She asked when she pulled away.

  
“He said I was getting better, but advised me to not lift my sword at all until his say so,” he replied, his face turning sour. “As if I would just start training while bedridden. The least the man could do was have me out of bed and dropped in a healing tank. That should solve it.”

  
“Dad, no…” she began, but she saw the wry look in his face and punched his arm. “If Mother and I ever see you do something stupid like run laps in the snow, we’ll do more than banish you to bed.”

  
Braev harrumphed but sank into his bed. “Moving on, there are some things you need to address the council.”

  
“I know, the war reparations and-”

  
“Actually,” he interrupted. “The council wanted to know the state of the Crystal Orthodoxy and whether it requires further action.”

  
Edea stared incredulously. “Seriously, father? Why must we continue to bring up the Orthodoxy when we have already shown the truth of it for over a year, now. My reports are about how we are supposed to fix wrongdoings.” She remembered Agnes and Olivia, lying on the ground and with so much blood she thought the both of them had died if not for one of them crying.

  
“It is important because of the reparations. Not many here are so predisposed to help or provide relief if it meant supporting Crystalists.”

  
“They are ordinary people-”

  
“And,” continued Braev, his voice echoing the chamber. “If we are to help the common people, we must assuage our own so they be more pliable.”

  
Agnes have nothing else to say, frustration welling up although not just directed towards her father.

  
“I shall think more on this, Father,” she said tightly. Without hearing a word back, she turned on her heel and made to walk out.

  
“Keep that temper of yours, my child,” he called towards her. That was when she snapped and whirled around.

  
“That is the pot calling the kettle black!” She cried out, and she closed the door soundly behind her.

  
Back in her room, she slammed the door and stalked through her luggage and packages to drop onto her bed.

  
“Mrgrgr!” She cried into her pillow. “Can’t the man not interrupt me for one sentence?! Who has been doing the work and listening around here?!” On the bed, she thought and thought and thought. Tired faces and healing faces. Stern faces and happy faces. Ringabel's cloying voice and Tiz's earnest, sad eyes. Sometimes, the weight of faces and voices and ghosts crushed down on her when alone in bed or in a room. Sometimes, she saw her master with his sword raised in an arc, training in the air, and lowering it down over her head intended for a killing blow. Shadows and light cast together, and it was not even grey. It was just a swirl colors through tear-soaked eyes.

  
She turned her head and looked at her desk, seeing letters and documents in her inbox piled high. She grimaced and grumbled out of her bed, wriggling out like a worm.

  
Sullenly, she picked the top of the list and gasped.

  
From the Wind Vestal Agnes Oblige

  
No sooner had she finished reading the header did she tore open the top and plucked out the pages. The letters were dated several weeks ago, back when she was in Florem, and no doubt in response to a previous letter from when she was in Caldisla. It was an apology for not showing in Ancheim, although she already knew it from when she next visited there and heard that Agnes would miss her by heading to the Yulyana woods.

  
Reading quickly and emptying her mind for happier thoughts, Edea looked into her inbox and saw more letters from Agnes. All were sent within a few days of one another, as though Agnes were documenting a diary instead of corresponding with a friend, and it suited Edea best for she wondered how it is that Agnes spent her time in between the time lapse of her sending it from Ancheim and getting it delivered to Eternia.

  
The latest, from when she was in Eternia, had her cry out and searched for her calendar, almost tossing out her papers and pens from the desk.

  
She saw the date and almost cursed, before she trampled all over her luggage to get out of her bedroom.

  
“Mother! Why didn’t you tell me that we’re having visitors!”

  
*  
Dear Edea,

  
By the time you read this, it may seem almost a surprise to you. I have been invited by your mother and father to visit Eternia and discuss the state of Crystalism, both against and for it, as representative of all Vestals of the crystal. Although we have visited Eternia once before after the chasm closed, we were as you said, four man strong. Now with only just myself and a handful of acolytes, I start to worry almost fretfully about meeting the council.

  
But the thought of seeing you again filled me with great expectation. If I could see you there with the council, I think I would be braver. Already, I feel accustomed to speaking out more to people and having to do more by myself without the mother vestal. So I think, when you see me, I hope that I have changed so we can be more than two people staying strong.

  
See you on March 1st.

  
May the light of the crystal shine for you,

  
Agnes Oblige

  
*

  
The airship landed safely in the dock, and Agnes stepped off the plank with her entourage in tow. Cloaked warmly in dark nunnery and winter trappings, they all cut a figure in contrast to the white landscape and spots of green in the land. The representative of Eternia greeted them, alongside the prime minister, but Agnes saw to some disappointment that Edea was nowhere to be found.

  
Thinking heavily of the council, where the room had tall ceilings and cold light reflecting on all surfaces, she shuddered bone-deep though not from the cold.

  
She wondered if she had to see Braev Lee once more, towering over in heavy ermine and his blade always by his side, even though she knew that his health had not been the same.

  
The prime ministers and steward led them all inside, where internal heating warmed the castle air almost to the point of having to strip down to her dress. No doubt, the country relied still on the power of the crystal, and she would have to see the state of the earth crystal before she could speak for it.

  
She wondered if she would have to worry about it given the proposals received by the leaders of Ancheim, Florem, and Eisenberg.

  
The sitting room they stayed in was quaint and warm, but the heavy tired stares of the acolytes and her own sense of impatience led her to excuse herself and walk out into the hallway.

  
It was just like when we first went through the castle towards Braev Lee, she thought. Indeed, not much has changed in the interior, and she looked out the window to gaze at the city below.

  
Same snow, same people, and same puffs of smoke powered by centralized heating. She wondered if maybe she would have to be the one to approve for the usage of the crystal in this way, and if she did, would it be a betrayal or a boon.

  
Turning around to go back into her room, she realized that she walked away from her hallway.

  
Probably very far.

  
Or near?

  
….I think I went this way…

  
She walked backwards and traced her steps, but no matter what, she thought all the halls looked the same, the floors were the same, and even the flowers in the vases were the same.

  
More than half an hour of wandering, and she couldn’t even see a single guardsman or servant, even though she heard their voices well enough and walked towards them only to find a wall or a dead end.

  
“Agnes!”

  
She turned around. A whirlwind of red and white and black collided into her, and she nearly buckled down to her knees.

  
“Are you kidding me, Agnes? How did you get to the white mage laboratory, it’s in a whole other building!”

  
Edea was laughing. Real and warm, and very loud. Soon Agnes was smiling as well.

  
And cried.

  
Then Edea started crying as well, and soon the two sank down to the floor nearly wailing between tears.

  
“I… missed you so much,” sobbed Edea, smiling through tears and snot.

  
And suddenly it was like the four of them, huddled in the Eschalot, only two of them were ghosts and after images in the area, and only Edea and Agnes remained. Real and solid.

  
“Edea, what are we doing?” Agnes wailed, almost laughing despite her tears. “I...I’m supposed to be the Pope!”

  
“I know! What is up with that?!”

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
